Fear And Loathing
by Richonne
Summary: One of Rick's deputies is obsessed with him. He immediately stamps down on any notion that there can ever be anything more than friendship between them but she's not willing to let go so easily. As Rick and Michonne plan their wedding Christine plans ways to make Rick hers. Warning: Racist internal/spoken dialog from a character.
1. Chapter 1

"Wait a second, what do you mean you hate tuxedo's?"

Carl shrugged and dipped his spoon into his cream of wheat. Rick sat bacon on the table and Carl began to crumble it into his hot cereal. It looked pretty appetizing to Michonne but her stomach was still rolling from her latest session of making out with the toilet.

"A shrug ain't an answer, son," Rick pointed out, and watched Judith grab a handful of cereal to put into her mouth. She managed to wipe it over half her face so Rick used a rag to clean her up.

"I just don't like the way it'll make me look," he answered. "You know, like an idiot."

"You have to wear a tux. You're my best man," Rick said. "Unless you've changed your mind."

"No! I want you two to get married," he said sincerely. "I just don't want to look like a dork while you do it."

"I'll be in a tux," Rick pointed out.

Carl rolled his eyes as if to say 'my point exactly.' This earned him a playful kick under the table from his father.

"You're wearing a tux," Michonne said. "Suck it up, it's only for one night."

"What's Judy gonna wear?" Carl asked.

"A cute little pink dress with lots of frills," Michonne said. "It's either the tux or I can make you a dress to match your sisters."

Carl rolled his eyes again. He was heavy on the teenage disdain this morning. He scraped his bowl clean and stretched. "I'm heading out to the fishing hole with Will."

"Sure you're not also going to see Zoe?" asked Rick.

At once Carl's face began to redden. "W-what do you mean?"

"He mean's Will's seventeen-year-old sister," Michonne supplied, as though it was a valid question Carl asked and not a deliberate evasion. "Surely you remember the girl I'm talking about? You must have seen her once or twice. She's tall, pretty, with long red wavy hair and bright green eyes."

"And freckles, Honey. Don't forget the freckles," Rick teased.

"Yes, freckles. Thank you, Sweetie, for reminding me of the freckles."

"I know who she is and I know what she looks like," Carl groused in embarrassment.

"Don't sass your mother," Rick said, around a mouthful of eggs and bacon.

"I'm not sassing. I'm going to see Will and the guys. It's not my fault Zoe will be there. Jeeze!" He stomped upstairs to get his swim trunks while Michonne and Rick shared a moment of laughter.

"Bite!" Judy yelled, pointing at the bacon.

"Just one piece of bacon. She gets pukey if she eats more than that," Michonne said. She kissed Rick quickly and then headed for the kitchen door. She grabbed the keys to her cart. She was properly showing now, and the sight of it made Rick smile.

"Here comes your deputy," she said.

"I've got three, which one?"

"Christine."

Rick sighed. He'd told Michonne all about Christine's odd behavior since the battle at the Northeast Gate. Michonne, for her part, wasn't at all concerned. "Okay."

She smiled sympathetically. "I'll be with Maggie. We're going to be fitted for maternity wear. See you this evening."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

"Morning, Christine," Michonne said, stepping out.

"Rick here?" Christine said, not interested in as much as sparing Michonne a glance. Perhaps, Michonne mused, she didn't want to see her belly which was swollen with Rick's child, and have to face the reality that she was more than just some easily replaceable fling for Rick Grimes.

"Inside. Go on in."

Rick watched Christine Todd enter his kitchen with a mixture of curiosity and unease. She didn't try too hard to hide her feelings for him, which were more than platonic or professional, which often led to her saying or doing something that made him tense. She was one of those women who didn't seem capable of taking a hint. He was one inappropriate word or touch away from bluntly telling her to back off.

"Morning, Chief."

"Chris. What brings you to my house on a Saturday morning?"

"Two things. One, I wanted to congratulate you on being considered for the new Secretary of Defense position. Ernie McGinnis was a good man. I can't think of anyone better suited to replace him than you," she said with a slightly misty-eyed expression.

"Thank you. What else?"

"Part of the south wall caved last night from walker pressure. They're still trying to shore it up. The West brothers are on it now but they're having issues with walkers pushing in."

"I'll go check it out myself," he said, "as soon as I find a sitter for Judy."

"I can watch her."

"That wouldn't be appropriate," Rick said.

Christine frowned. "Really? Why?"

"I think we both know why. Christine, you've been fairly obvious about your feelings for me," said Rick. He wasn't sure how to take the half gasp, half laugh that came from Christine.

"Rick," she said, taking his hand. "You know?"

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious," he replied, and pulled his hand from hers.

She looked confused for a moment when he pulled back. "Am I wrong when I see the same feelings for me in your eyes?"

"Yes, you _are _wrong. Christine, I love Michonne," Rick explained.

Her face fell. He marveled at how she could have deluded herself into thinking he felt anything for her other than friendship, and even that was shaky. She spooked Rick. It seemed to him she'd begun to lose touch with reality.

"But…you're only with her because you knew her when you were on the outside. You didn't have anybody else. Now you're here, in the sanctuaries, a part of our community. There are better choices for you, Rick."

Rick stared at her a moment, feeling his ire rise. "_Better_ choices, Christine?"

"Yes, Rick. Better choices."

"Like you?"

"Yes, of course."

"What makes you better than Michonne?"

Now Christine was beginning to get angry. He was playing dumb, asking questions he knew the answers to already. "What do you think, Rick? I'm one of your people. We're the same kind. Out there you had to take what you could get. In here you have choices."

Rick's heart was beating fast with anger. "You think I'm with Michonne because I was desperate, but now I can choose a white woman so I should kick her to the curb?"

"I know you're a man of integrity. It's one of the reasons I love you so much, but you don't owe her anything! You need a woman to mother your children, I get that. I'm more than capable-"

"I'm not with Michonne out of desperation and your bigotry is not welcome in my house. It's not welcome in my life, for that matter."

"What?" she said in confusion.

"Bigots like you have always sickened me," he told her. "Look, Christine, I'm gonna be upfront with you. I wouldn't touch you if you were literally the last woman on earth. How's that for me choosing a woman out of desperation?"

"You don't mean that."

"Yeah, I do. I'm transferring you to Sanctuary Two. I'm also going to recommend that you be relieved of your position of authority because I don't think you can do this job objectively. You have to deal with all races and you know what? I won't stand by and let this new civilization we're building have people of your ilk in power. Get out of my house."

She stared at him in open-mouthed shock. "Rick, you can't be-I don't hate black people. We just weren't meant to mix!"

He saw Merle Dixon flash before his vision, plain as day, and felt a wave of disgust for the memory of the man as well as the woman standing before him.

"I said get out," he said plainly. "Submit your badge and your official firearm to Hank at the station as soon as you leave here. You'll be off-duty until your transfer to S2 comes in."

She looked numb as she walked out of the house. She stopped and cast one last look back at the man she'd fallen so hard for. She didn't see any of the love she thought she'd seen in his eyes previously. Still in shock, Christine left Rick Grimes' house and headed to follow orders to turn in her badge and gun.

"Dad?" Carl asked, when Christine was gone.

"Yeah?" Rick asked on a heavy sigh.

"That woman is crazy. Be careful of her."

Rick nodded in agreement. "Will do. No you go have fun swimming with your friends. And Zoe."

Carl nodded and left the house but he didn't get through the door without a concerned look at his father before he left.

* * *

_**It wasn't until an hour had**_ passed and Christine sat in the apartment she rented downtown, barely two blocks from the police station, that the shock wore off. Anger began to overtake Christine.

_That sonofabitch_, she thought. _He's choosing some nigger over me?_

She had to confess she'd never understood people who couldn't comprehend that whites were God's chosen people, that they were genetically superior as well as divinely favored, and had been created to rule over not just the animals, but the lesser races. It had nothing to do with hate and everything to do with how God and Mother Nature had designed things.

Good-looking, strong, white men of integrity were hard to find after the Turn. So she could understand how a man like Rick Grimes could have lost his way. Perhaps his parents hadn't brought him up right. They'd probably been Liberals and Democrats pre-Turn. That wasn't Rick's fault. She could forgive his upbringing to a point. One couldn't be faulted if they hadn't been taught right to begin with. Once they had been told, however, there simply wasn't a reason for them to choose to wallow in the filth of the lower races and mix with them.

Rick Grimes was so lost, so traumatized by his time in the wild, that he couldn't see that planting his seed in dirty soil was only going to produce half-blood filth.

Her feelings for Rick had always been there, from the time she started training under him and then moved to S1. Unable to stand being away from him, she'd volunteered to fight the battle of the Northeast Gate. She'd hoped he'd stand by her side but he'd chosen his nigger warrior girl instead. It wasn't a surprise Michonne was so capable with that sword. Darkies were violent creatures by nature, like the gorillas and monkeys they looked like. That didn't make her wife material for a strong white man.

_There has to be something I can do to open his eyes to the truth. He's going to corrupt his son and his daughter if he stays with that black bitch..._

Christine came up short and smiled as an idea came to her. She knew just what needed to be done. Michonne had to be eliminated. Once she was gone he would grieve for her, undoubtedly, but he would also get over her.

With my help, Christine thought.

She would be there to pick up the pieces of Rick's shattered heart. First, however, she had to break it.


	2. Chapter 2

_**By the time Rick got Judy**_ settled with Mrs. Gunderson down the street, and left a note for Carl and Michonne as to her whereabouts and what was going on at the south wall, an hour had passed. Rick now zoomed his cart to the wall where Tim and Jake West were working with a crew to not only seal the breach but to reinforce it so that it wasn't as vulnerable to walker attacks.

Tim, the older of the brothers by a couple of years, nodded at Rick and gave him a progress report.

"Sorry I wasn't here sooner. I had to find a sitter for Judy," Rick said.

"No problem, Sheriff. We've got it under control. No casualties today and we'll have the reinforcements done along the whole south wall by Thursday night if we work round the clock, which we will. President Huber in S1 is sending in help."

Rick nodded. The south wall surrounded a few hundred acres of open land and forestry. It would eventually be a community of apartment buildings and shops. For now it was simply open land.

"I'll hang around a few hours, just in case the walkers manage-"

_What now,_ Rick wondered, when the lights on the emergency beacons began to flash. It meant there was a breach and walkers had been spotted inside the sanctuary. People would know to shelter in place, which would greatly reduce the chance of anyone being bitten or scratched. They wouldn't come out until the red beacons stopped flashing for more than ten straight minutes. His radio crackled seconds later.

"Rick, its Hank. We've got another breach. Ten walkers in town, and at least five more were called in as being spotted heading for Fisherman's Pond."

"My boy is up there," Rick said. "You work to get rid of the walkers in town. I'll head up to Fisherman's Pond. Find Michonne and make sure she's okay. She's getting fitted for maternity clothes."

"She's up the street. I see her now," said Hank. "Jesus."

"What?" Rick said, panicked.

"She and Maggie Rhee are cutting through them like butter."

Tim laughed at the expression of relief on Rick's face. "Go help her, Hank. Rick out."

"We got it covered here, Sheriff," Jake called from his place at the wall, where he was welding.

Rick waved and then jumped into his cart. He pushed it as hard as he could to get up to Fisherman's Pond. He prayed his son would be alive and well when he got there.

* * *

_**Carl Grimes surfaced and thanked God**_ he did because Zoe Bloom was climbing out of the pond and water was cascading down her body. She wore a bright red bikini that had threatened to make Carl's eyes pop out of his head when he'd first arrived at the pond. He'd hated his parents' teasing, but honestly, it was more than a cool swim on a hot day that had convinced Carl to come to the pond. Zoe was perfect in his eyes. She was also recently single.

"Hey, Carl," she said, patting the grass next to her. "Come out and have a cool drink with me. I brought a cooler with some sodas."

Carl looked back at his buddy, Will, who was trying to reel in a fish with their other friends, Adam Martin and Joel Simmons. He sloshed on shore and sat down beside her to pop open a couple of bottles of soda that were made in S1 and shipped to the other sanctuaries. It wasn't as good as Coca-Cola had been, but it was cold, fizzy, and sweet.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem. You going to take any fish home?" she asked.

"Probably not. I'm mostly here to swim. I think Mom is making some kind of veggie casserole for dinner this evening."

"I'd love to be in your house this evening then. Dad and Will are gonna clean those fish and stink up the whole house."

"Why don't you come over for dinner?" he asked.

"Really?" she said, smiling prettily at him.

"Yeah. We'd love to have you over."

Just then a shadow fell over Carl. "Why don't you fuck off, Grimes?"

Carl sighed and stood to face Jacob Ryan, who had a good three inches and twenty-five pounds on Carl. Most some of it was muscle, some of it fat. Still, Carl had a hard time being afraid of Jacob. He was nothing compared to some of the stuff Carl had seen on the outside.

"Go away, Jacob," Zoe said. "We broke up three weeks ago."

"You'll come around," he said, dismissing her.

She rolled her eyes. "The way you ignore what I want and just try to decide everything for me is why I broke up with you to begin with. Just go away!"

Jacob ignored Zoe. He was too busy staring at Carl. "You heard me the first time, Grimes. Get lost."

He shoved Carl, who immediately shoved him back. Jacob laughed it off, but Carl heard the undercurrent of surprise and anxiety under it. Normally Jacob's size made it easy for him to bully people simply by crowding them. There was a real chance, Carl realized, that nobody had ever, in his life, shoved or hit back at Jacob Ryan.

"How about you back off, punk?" asked Carl.

"_I'm_ the punk? Oh, right, I forgot. You're mister tough guy. You spent a few years on the outside and think you're hot shit."

"And you spent practically the whole Turn holed up in a sanctuary, never having to go hungry or fight for your life against those drooling freaks," Carl shot back.

"Oh, boohoo for you, Grimes. Just because I wasn't out there-"

Carl could feel something dark boiling inside him. He hated bullies. He be damned if he let this one run him off or make him look bad in front of Zoe Bloom.

"Guys-" she started, seeing a real fist fight was coming.

Carl's fists were balled up. "Boohoo? Fuck you, Ryan."

"I said get lost. She's taken."

"She's free and doesn't want shit to do with you," Carl said, inching closer to Jacob. "Why don't you go sit on your fat ass behind your mom's skirts like you have since the Turn started?"

"At least I have my _real _mom."

That was all it took. Something inside Carl snapped and he lunged, taking Jacob by surprise. He got in two solid punches that dazed Jacob, and then he laid in with a few more.

"Carl, stop!" Zoe shouted.

Carl remembered looking down in the quarry and seeing Shane Walsh beat Ed Peletier nearly to death. He didn't want to be that man. He didn't want to disappoint his father, who wouldn't look the other way at him seriously hurting a boy just because of a fight.

"Get off!" Jacob shouted tearfully. His eye was swelling shut and his lip was busted, and he was humiliated, with everyone at the pond seeing him finally meet his match and taking obvious pleasure in it.

Then someone screamed. Carl saw flashing lights from the warning beacons to shelter in place, that walkers had breached their defenses.

Carl jumped up and saw that a walker had Adam Martin in its grip and had bitten into his shoulder. There were four more stumbling toward the other boys, Will and Joel were all screaming in terror, none louder than Adam.

"Will!" Zoe shouted fearfully.

Despite the relative security of the sanctuaries, Carl had never been able to completely relinquish protection. He had a beauty of a knife with a five inch blade and an ivory handle that he'd found on the outside that he kept tucked into his jeans. He unsheathed it and ran toward his friends while the others screamed in fear.

"Run!" Carl shouted.

His blood was pumping and, he realized, it was with excitement, not fear as it should have been. This was something he was used to. This was something he knew how to do all the way down to his bones. He was still angry about Jacob and he was now angry about Adam, and he wanted to kill something.

That dark impulse scared him. He'd hoped it would have gone away the longer he spent in the sanctuary but it hadn't.

"Get home!" Carl shouted, and brought his knife down on the head of the walker chewing on Adam's shoulder.

Carl had attracted the attention of the other walkers, now, because he was remaining behind rather than running away making himself an easier target. He brought his knife around in a wide arc, planting it in the side of another walker's head. He kicked another to the ground and stomped it square in the head. Two hard stomps put it out of its misery. Carl realized just how much easier he could handle the walkers. He was growing up, getting bigger and stronger, and not all of the walkers were rotted giants to loom over him.

Two walkers were left. He chased them down, while his friends watched, and put a swift end to them. When it was over, he stood looking down at his knife. It was coated in blood and gore, as was his hand.

Something caught his attention in the trees lining the pond. He caught a glimpse of short brown hair and he could have sworn it was Christine Todd. He wasn't a hundred percent sure since the glimpse seemed less than a second. It was more of a flash than a real look. Whoever it was, they were gone now, lost in the deep shadows of the forest.

Cheering drew his attention back to the moment at hand. Jacob Ryan sulked while the others cheered. Zoe's face wore an expression of both pride and awe. She'd never seen someone so young handle walkers so efficiently and with no fear whatever. That ceased to matter, however, when Carl ran to Adam's side and their cheers quickly subsided.

Adam was white as cotton. He'd bled out and now stared with dead eyes at the pond in front of him. He was going to turn if Carl didn't do something.

"I'm sorry, Adam," Carl said, before bringing his knife down to guarantee his friend didn't return.

"Son!"

Carl was almost overwhelmed with relief to see his father running toward him. He fell to his knees beside Adam and called for backup if any was available. Rick ordered the kids to stay put. He didn't want them walking home, defenseless, and possibly encounter more walkers on the way. He'd have a wagon brought up and drive them all home, and he'd have a doctor come to collect Adam Martin's body.

"You okay, Carl?"

Carl nodded. "I saw somebody, in the trees. Dad...it kinda looked like Christine Todd."

"Are you sure?" Rick said, looking to the trees where Carl pointed. There was no one there.

"Not exactly. That's just the first impression I got. I can't say it was her for sure. Are you gonna arrest her?"

"I can't unless you can positively identify her. Can you, son?"

Carl thought about it for a moment but decided he couldn't rightly name Christine Todd with only a glimpse that lasted half a second. In the end he had to shake his head no, though he hated to do it.

"I just have a gut instinct that it was her."

"If only that would hold up in court," said Rick, looking toward the perimeter. He wished, in that moment, that he had Daryl Dixon there to track down whoever Carl may have thought he'd seen. Daryl wasn't there, however, and he would have to do his own investigating.

He was going to start with Christine Todd as his prime suspect.

* * *

_**It was eleven at night and**_ Carl was still up since all the hoopla had gotten them home late. Michonne cleared the dinner dishes away before offering him a glass of sweetened iced tea.

"Are you okay, Carl?" Michonne said.

"Yeah."

"It's okay if you're not. Adam was your friend. You had to put him down."

"I put down my mother. Anything after that is kinda easy in comparison," he said. "Still, it sucks. He was only fourteen."

"I know. I'm sorry," she said, and kissed him tenderly on the forehead. She held his hand for a moment before seeing the headlights of Rick's cart shine through the kitchen windows.

"Wanna say hi to your Dad before you turn in?"

Carl shook his head. "I spoke to him earlier. I'm just really tired."

"Okay. Go on to bed. You can sleep in tomorrow."

Rick came in looking as exhausted as she'd ever seen him.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"The south wall is going well. The damage has been repaired. Now it's a matter of just finishing the planned reinforcements. We found the breaches by Fisherman's Pond and the one near town."

"There were two breaches? I thought there was only one."

Rick nodded. "The breach in the wall in town, where you and Maggie dealt with the walkers, was fairly small and easy to patch up. So was the one by the pond where Carl was."

Michonne set a plate of veggie casserole in front of Rick and he practically inhaled it. He refused seconds, though. He just wanted a cool shower and to lie down.

By the time he came to bed he moved stiffly. Michonne sat down behind him and began to knead the muscles of his shoulders, working out the kinks. He sighed at how good it felt to feel her untangling the knots.

"Something is bothering you," she said knowingly. "Want to tell me what it is?"

"The breaches in town and by the pond…they feel deliberate," Rick explained. "The more I think about it the more I'm convinced someone let those walkers in."

"Who would do such a thing?"

"Christine," said Rick.

"She's a deputy. She's sworn to uphold the law and protect the people. She wouldn't deliberately breach security, would she?"

"There's something I need to tell you," said Rick. He explained his conversation with Christine that morning.

Michonne was shaking her head. She didn't look as angry as Rick had been when listening to Christine's vile hate speech.

"Doesn't that piss you off?"

"Not really. I pity her more than I dislike her," said Michonne. "She's not the only one who can't let go of old ideas about humanity and people's place in the world. Humans need to stick together and fight the real foe: the walkers. We shouldn't still be dealing with racism, not now, not when humanity as a whole is struggling just to make it out of this. She sounds really unstable."

Rick shook his head. "You're a lot nicer than I am, Michonne, I'll give you that. I wanted to knock her head off and I never let myself think that way about women. She actually thinks she's a better woman for me _just_ because she's white. Christ. Carl said he saw someone in the woods that had short brown hair. His first impression was that it was Christine in the trees but he couldn't say for sure. I didn't want him to lie just to tell me what I want to hear. That's not the kind of man I want him to be."

"Me either. You did right, Rick. His first impression is probably the right one, though," Michonne concluded. "What are you going to do?"

"Investigate. I don't have proof yet but I'll try to build a case. I wish I could arrest her and hold her while I work on the case."

"You can't do that. You have to have some kind of hard evidence before you can take her freedom."

"Meanwhile she's 'free' to run around doing god knows what and endangering the lives of our people. A fourteen-year-old boy died today, Michonne."

"I know, Baby. I know. I'm sorry," she said, and kissed him on the neck. She could hear the pain so heavy in his voice. "Why do you think she did it? Just to get back at you?"

Rick shrugged. "I took her badge. Maybe she thinks if she stirs up enough shit I'll need her and she can prove to be useful. I'm going to question her tomorrow. I may be able to get her to run her mouth and trip her up in a lie."

Michonne finished the massage and moved to sit down beside him but Rick pulled her onto his lap. He tried to change the subject to something a little more lighthearted.

"You decided on beef or pork for the wedding dinner?"

"Both. Let's talk wedding plans tomorrow," Michonne said, with a mischievous smile. She reached down to stroke Rick under his robe. He hardened against her palm at once and the feel of him moistened her. He lifted her up and she guided him to her entrance before sliding down on him with a low moan.

"You feel so good," she whispered.

"We're perfect together," he said on a sigh, and felt her begin to move against him. All thoughts of a deranged stalker fled Rick's mind in that moment, as the woman he loved brought him peace.

* * *

_**He's probably fucking her right now…**_

Christine tried not to think about it while she examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The naked bulb was harsh and made her look older than her thirty-four years.

_It's not right. I'm the one he should share his bed with._

She regretted cutting her hair down. She should have kept it long and then she could have had it braided since Rick liked braids. She wondered, though, if that would make her look too niggerish. The last thing she wanted to do was look like one of the lesser races, especially the blacks, but Rick seemed drawn to dark skin.

_I'll just have to get a good tan. I wish I could buy a wig and braid it. Then I'd look more like her._

Wigs, however, weren't something one could find in any of the sanctuaries. It was just luck that she had brown eyes. Hers weren't nearly black, like Michonne's. They were more of a warm cinnamon color, but it would have to do. Colored contacts weren't in supply since they weren't a necessity.

Fortunately she'd lucked up on a couple of boxes of hair dye in one of their warehouses. She could have black hair for a while, until the supply ran out. Perhaps she could go on another run and find more.

Once the dying process was finished Christine pulled on a headband like the one Michonne liked to wear when she wasn't in court. Black hair and a headband was the best she could do to look more like Michonne under the circumstances. She thought she looked rather fetching, considering what she was imitating. When Michonne was dead Rick would find it easier to accept her if she reminded him of Michonne. Gradually she could go back to her old look as he adjusted to not having Michonne in his life.

Christine took a bottle of beer up to the roof of her building where she'd set up a blanket. She would strip off all of her clothes and lay out in the sun tomorrow, thirty minutes each side, until she was tanned and as dark as she could stand it. She'd burn, of course, and peel, but there were ways to deal with that. In just a few weeks she would be about as dark as it was possible for her to be. Maybe then Rick would find her more attractive.

Her first attempt to get rid of Michonne hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped. The woman had taken a butcher knife and, along with Maggie Rhee, they'd cut down the walkers she'd let into town. She'd not been there to witness it but had, instead, heard it over her radio. Michonne and Maggie cutting through the walkers like butter. She snorted in disgust with Hank. He'd obviously been impressed. Most people were impressed with that bitch, unfortunately.

When it came to walkers, Rick, and the people who'd been in his group, were deadly assassins who never even, it seemed, came close to losing a battle with them. She remembered the way Carl had handled the walkers at the pond. It was as though they were nothing to him. It was as though he'd enjoyed it. He'd even put one of his little friends down without hesitation, which had put Christine on edge. There was darkness in the boy. She could see it.

Instead of being in town to see Michonne fight the walkers, she'd been up at Fisherman's Pond, where Carl Grimes had gone swimming, to let walkers in up there. It was a shame about the boy but he had to die. Christine realized that even though he pursued a white girl, as was proper, he'd undoubtedly been sullied by his father's way of thinking and would probably follow in his father's footsteps and date beneath him someday. Maybe he would even dirty the pristine white blood of his family line by breeding with one of the lesser races.

Carl's death would serve a duel function, though. Not only would it stop him from breeding and dirtying up good white blood, it would break his father. Losing Michonne wouldn't be enough. Rick needed to lose it all. Judith was young enough to be taught the right way but she would also have to die. She would only remind Rick of the life he'd had before Christine. She couldn't have that.

No, when she and Rick finally came together she wanted him all to herself without any reminders of what had been of his old life. They would have their own children. They would be white, and they would be pure, and they would be taught that it was white first, other races second, and then the walkers last.

Christine lay down on the blanket. It had warmed in the summer sun and wasn't unpleasant now. She imagined watching Rick grieve beside the graves of his son, daughter, and Michonne and it excited her. She dipped a hand into her shorts and rubbed her moistened clit as she saw herself take Rick into her arms and comfort him.

'_You were right, Christine,' fantasy Rick wept. 'I should have chosen you to begin with. I should have seen how much you love me. I should have appreciated you. Forgive me.'_

"Of course I forgive you. I love you, Baby," Christine whispered, stroking herself faster as she felt her climax begin to build. Rick slid into her while he sat atop Michonne's grave. She rocked against him, in this fantasy, and climaxed. Her juices gushed over her hand while she imagined it was Rick's cock she climaxed on. They would create new life, right there on Michonne's grave. It would be a glorious moment.

She came down from her orgasm and took another drink of her beer as she stared up at the starry night sky. It was time to send Rick a message with little Judith. She wasn't heartless. She would give him one more chance before she spilled the little girl's blood.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I've posted the remainder of the fic here so you can keep reading after this chapter. There are some familiar faces coming up.**  
**

* * *

_**It was raining heavily when the **_Grimes family returned from Adam Martin's funeral. There had been too many of those lately, all from walkers. The safety of the sanctuary had been breached too many times of late and had left people shaken. It was evident in the way people remained close to home, fearful of allowing their children to go unattended, or unarmed. They'd allowed themselves to be lulled into a false sense of security in thinking that the sanctuaries were invincible. They _were _relatively safe, but they could be defeated if a strong force, such as a substantial herd of walkers came by, a major storm blew in, or, Rick thought darkly, a saboteur from the inside worked against them.

The storm that had moved in blackened the sky and hastened the onset of dusk. Though it would mean stifling heat and humidity later, Rick enjoyed the cool temperatures now. He breathed deep of the air, which was fresh with the wet smell of rain, and with the scent of flowers and trees, and summertime.

A golden retriever, Mr. Mee's dog, had gotten loose and was now trotting happily down the street, sniffing at everything, looking for rare evidence that another of his species had been in the area, before marking his territory by peeing on Rick's fence. Domesticated dogs were rare. They'd almost all gone feral after the turn. Mr. Mee emerged from his house with an umbrella and leash in hand. He was still in his robe and slippers.

"Buddy! Get back here, boy!"

Buddy ignored him, moving along as though his owner didn't exist, forcing Mr. Mee to come down his walkway to leash him. It was such a normal thing to see. Society had established itself. It was fragile, but it was real, and Rick thanked whoever may have been listening that Will Swanson had found him and his group that day and brought them in.

Carl came up the walkway under a green and white striped umbrella. His sneakers and the legs of his jeans were soaked but otherwise he was pretty dry. His knife hung at his hip. Rick had hoped one day the boy would put it away. Now he was glad his son hadn't been able to set it down. He shuddered to think what would have happened had he been unarmed that day at the pond. There would have been more than one dead child they would have buried today. One of those may have even been Carl.

Buddy immediately rolled over on his back at Carl's feet, seeking a belly rub, which Carl obliged until Mr. Mee could attach the leash to Buddy's collar and walked him home.

"Evening, Son," Rick said, rocking in his chair. Carl took a seat next to his father, sitting in the chair Michonne usually occupied. "You look kind of dazed. Are you okay?"

Carl nodded. "Something happened," he said.

"Something bad?"

Carl shook his head and grinned sheepishly. "Zoe kissed me. On the mouth. It was a grown-up kiss."

"Ah," Rick said, and smiled with genuine warmth. Something good had happened indeed. He could see a glow in his son's eyes that had never been there before. His boy was in love. "That _is_ a good thing."

"I've never kissed a girl like that. I've never kissed a girl period, but especially like that," he said.

"It was quite an experience, wasn't it?" Rick said knowingly.

Carl nodded. "She wants to be my girl. Dad…I've got a _girlfriend_. I feel kinda guilty though. I mean, Adam died and…"

"And here you are falling in love and having a life," Rick nodded knowingly. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't feel guilty, Carl. Adam's life is over, and that's a tragic thing, but your life is just beginning. Enjoy it. Enjoy this experience. It's well worth it."

His son nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

Rick watched him go into the house. He was happy for his son, having this grand experience with a girl, but he also knew the heartache that was coming when they broke up. Such were the sorrows of first experiences with love.

"Baby, you've got a phone call," Michonne said, handing him the cordless phone. "Dinner will be on the table in twenty."

"Thanks, Honey. I'll be eating inside this evening," he said. He put the phone to his ear. "Grimes."

"Mr. Grimes, this is Peter Martin, Adam's brother."

Rick remembered the young man from the funeral. He felt a stab of sorrow for him. He was only nineteen and had lost his only brother. "Hello, Peter. What can I do for you?"

"I've been speaking with my parents. We've talked it over with the Simmons and Bloom family, as well as some other families in town. We'd like to start a self-defense program for the citizens. Not all of us are as good as Carl at fending off walkers. We'd also like to honor Carl with a plaque for what he did."

Rick imagined the horror that would come over Carl's face at the idea of a plaque and smiled. "I'm sure he'd be honored. As for the training program, I think that's an excellent idea. Even with the walls of the sanctuaries breaches do happen. It would be wise for as many people as possible to have training in how to properly kill a walker."

They made arrangements for a meeting the following week and Rick hung up. It was good that rather than living in fear and self-pity these people wanted to learn to take an active hand in self-defense.

Movement caught his eye and Rick looked up. A woman walked by the deserted house across the street from Rick's. He recognized her at once: It was Christine.

She pretended not to notice him. It was flagrant enough that she would walk past his house while he was investigating her. Her presence was threat enough. She didn't push it by stopping to stare at him, as she probably had been doing without his noticing. How long had she been there, in the shadows, watching him enjoy the rainy evening? It sent a shiver down his spine.

Black hair and a hairband. She was trying to imitate Michonne. He'd been surprised by the changes in her appearance when he'd first gone to question her the day after the breaches. She'd answered the door completely naked, her skin reddened from exposure to the sun, and he knew she was trying to tan.

"Just getting some sun, Sir," she'd said.

"How about you get some clothes on while you're at it?" he'd snapped.

"What's the matter? Tempted?" she'd smirked.

"Not in the least. I'll be downstairs. You have five minutes or I'll send Hank up arrest you for indecent exposure."

"I'm in my house."

"Just do it, Christine!"

She'd cowed and looked down. "Yes, Sir."

He'd questioned her but she said nothing that could incriminate herself and Rick had been forced to let her go.

Christine walked on now, disappearing into the increasing darkness of the stormy night. Rick went inside and made sure the house was securely locked. It did little to make him feel safe.

* * *

_**Wednesday morning dawned without incident. **_The rain had decided to stick around. Michonne was grateful to wake up without nausea. She cooked breakfast and ate without being sick for the first time in four months.

"You don't look sick for once," Carl said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was dressed and had Judith in his arms.

"I'm not. Thank God," she said, and scraped eggs onto his plate. She put toast down for him and then hurried to answer the phone.

"Grimes residence. Michonne speaking."

Judge Dunn was on the other end of the line. "Michonne, good morning. I know you're due in court today on the Hoskins case, but she's been put on the back burner. There's been a rape/murder in Sanctuary 1. The victim was Jared Broward, a five-year-old boy."

"Oh, my God," Michonne said, closing her eyes.

"Rick's got his hands full with the breach case and solving who let the walkers in that killed Adam Martin. His deputies have been put on watch of the suspect so they can't do it. I wouldn't ask you, Michonne, but another herd has been spotted in the general vicinity of S1 and every man and woman is needed on the wall."

"No, I understand. I'll get the kids situated with Glenn and Maggie Rhee and I'll come straight to the office for the transfer papers."

"Good deal. The train will leave North Station at eleven a.m. on its regular schedule. Thanks, Michonne."

"No problem," she said, and hung up the phone with a sigh. She was going to have to prosecute the rape and murder of a child. What was wrong with people? It wasn't like this sort of thing was new, since it had been happening from the dawn of time. She'd just hoped people would stop victimizing one another in a place as good as the sanctuaries.

"Is that about Dad?" Carl asked, pulling Michonne from her dark thoughts. He had a look of concern on his face. The call had obviously been a bad one, judging from his mother's reactions.

"No, that's work related. He went out to the sight of the Fisherman's Pond breach with Jason," Michonne said. "You'll have to stay with Glenn and Maggie for the day until Rick gets off work. I have a prisoner transport to deal with."

"I can sit Jude until Dad gets home. I'm fifteen."

"Normally I would agree, but with Christine as a threat I don't want to leave you alone. I know you're a capable young man-"

"No, I get it," he said, trying to be mature and not throw a fit, even though he wanted to. He could see it from her perspective. He hoped that meant he was growing up. At least a little. "It's cool."

Michonne looked surprised. "Well…that was easy. You're just growing up fast on me, aren't you? I'll be home tomorrow evening," she said, and ruffled his hair before rushing upstairs to pack a bag for her trip.

* * *

_**Maggie put Judith down for a **_nap and decided she'd have a lie down herself. She was always tired and not all of it stemmed from the heat. It felt so good to stretch out on the couch and get off her swollen feet and rest her aching back. The rain was cool and soothing and minutes after her head hit the pillow she was out. It seemed, from her perspective, that she'd just closed her eyes when Glenn shook her awake.

"Glenn, I really don't feel like fooling around. I'm dead tired."

"Where did you put Judy?" he asked. He smelled of motor oil and had some of it smeared on his shirt and the bridge of his nose.

"In the crib in the baby's room," Maggie said, annoyed that he'd awoken her after only thirty minutes.

"She's not in there. I thought I heard her crying so I came to check but she's gone," said Glenn.

"What do you mean she's gone? She couldn't have gotten out of the crib," Maggie said worriedly. She got up and rushed to the room they'd set up in anticipation of their baby's arrival and found it empty.

"I'll take the second floor," said Glenn. "You search the first floor and the garage."

They kept the basement door locked at all times but Maggie took a quick peak there after she finished searching the rooms on the first floor, just in case. She checked the garage, even though it was impossible for Judith to have crawled out there without Maggie seeing her, especially after Glenn had already passed through himself.

"Oh, God," Maggie said, panicking. "Oh, Glenn, where could she have gone?"

"I'm calling Rick," he said, and snatched the phone off the wall receiver. He dialed the police department and waited.

"Sheriff's Office, Rick Grimes-"

"Rick, Judy's missing," Glenn said, cutting him off.

There was a slight pause, then Rick said, "I'm sending Jason to take a report."

He hung up, leaving Glenn and Maggie to stare at one another in confusion. "He's sending Jason. Why isn't he coming over himself?"

* * *

_**Rick Grimes sped straight over to**_ Christine Todd's place. Her cart was the only on in the small parking lot in front of the building, since her neighbors were all out at work. Across the street, Deputy Hank Nesbit sat in his patrol cart watching the building, just as he'd been assigned to do.

"Chief?" Hank asked, getting out of his car with his slight paunch preceding him as he hurried across the street. "Something wrong?"

"Some fine job you're doing, Hank," Rick barked. "Christine got out and kidnapped Judy!"

"What? That can't be. I've been here since six a.m., and I never once left my post!" Nesbit answered, angry at the accusation.

Rick stormed up to the second floor and banged hard on Christine's door. She didn't immediately answer. Rick decided he was going to kick his way in and search the place himself but the door opened and Christine stood there in a robe, her hair wet from the shower.

"What's the emergency?" she asked, but Rick pushed past her.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"Who?"

Rick began searching the apartment.

"We have laws, you know. You need a warrant to search my apartment," she said casually, without any real offense at Rick's actions. He looked in the bedroom, found it empty, and then emerged to stare at her with eyes so icy cold that she felt dread in her stomach.

Rick marched across the room and shoved Christine against the wall. He put his forearm against her neck, holding her in place and she began to panic at how difficult it became to breathe.

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"I'm not playing this game with you, Christine," Rick said. "You know exactly who I'm talking about."

"The Chief's daughter is missing," Hank said, and Rick glared at him.

"Keep outta this!" he shouted. Hank glared back.

"Sir, I'm an officer of the law. I know you got personal beef with Deputy Todd-"

"If anything happens to either of my children, or to Michonne, I'm going to kill you," Rick said, looking Christine in the eye.

"You wouldn't hurt me," she gasped.

"In my time out there, in the wild, I had to cross damn near every line to protect my family. I knifed my best friend and ripped a man's throat out with my bare teeth so don't think for a second I won't do what it takes to protect what's mine. I will kill _anyone _I deem a threat to my family. You, Christine, have proven yourself to be a threat. I don't know how you did it, how you got around Hank, but you've done something with my daughter."

"I wouldn't hurt a child, Rick."

"Tell that to the Martin family! If I don't find Judith alive and well in the next thirty minutes I will find you and I will gut you like a pig. I'll do it in plain view of everyone in the sanctuary if I have to. If harm has come to my little girl, I swear in the name of God Himself I will hunt you down and I won't stop until you're dead at my hand. Hank, arrest this crazy bitch on suspicion of kidnapping and put her in lockup."

Hank seemed to know better than to argue. He brought out his cuffs and began to read Christine her rights. As soon as she was escorted out Rick grabbed her phone and called Glenn and Maggie. They still hadn't found her.

Carl…Had she tried to do something to him, too? He knew his son was visiting his girlfriend. He dialed the Bloom residence and nearly fainted with relief when he heard Judith crying in the background. He'd recognize her cry anywhere.

"Judy's there?"

"Yeah," Zoe said, sounding confused. "Mr. Grimes, what's going-"

"Tell Carl to stay put, Zoe. I'll be there in ten."

He hung up, tears of relief stinging at his eyes, and ran out to his cart. He drove by the station and saw Hank leading Christine in to be processed. She looked at him with fear and loathing plain in her eyes.

* * *

_**Christine didn't protest when Hank took **_her from her home in handcuffs.

That son of a bitch. He'd threatened to kill her and she knew he'd meant it. She'd thought he had boundaries, that he wouldn't dare threaten harm to someone who obviously loved him so much, especially a woman like her, but there he was, in her home, manhandling her, threatening to kill her, and she knew he meant it.

He'd opened her eyes to what he was: An animal who hated his own kind. He was a man who'd gone completely wild in his years outside of civilization. Rick Grimes, Michonne, and that boy of his, were a threat to good people. He would kill anyone that he deemed a threat. He would do it and expect to get away with it. Her blood boiled at his audacity while at the same time her belly froze with fear at the memory of the sheer hatred in his eyes. She had misread Rick. She'd thought she could be kind, give him a warning by taking Judith but bringing her no harm, to let him see that not only was she capable of great harm but she was also generous and loving. He'd acknowledged her generosity by all but spitting in her face, the ungrateful bastard.

He disgusted her. She wondered, now, how she could have ever thought she could love him. He called her a threat when in fact _he_ was the one who was the threat. So was his nigger whore and his nigger-loving son and his chink-loving white trash friend, Maggie Rhee. They were all useless race traitors who would kill their fellow citizens in the sanctuary without fear of reprisal. After all, he'd said it himself, he's crossed every line out there. He'd admitted to cold-blooded murder. She wouldn't be surprised if they'd all murdered good folk.

They had to be stopped and she was going to be the one to stop them.

* * *

_**Rick hugged Judith close and kissed**_ her chubby, ruddy, tear-streaked cheeks. She calmed down once in her father's arms.

"Daddy," she said, her little voice hiccuping in an echo of her earlier cries.

"Daddy's got you. Daddy's got his baby girl now, so don't you be afraid," Rick reassured her. "Carl, you scared us half to death, sneaking Judy out of Maggie's house."

Carl shook his head. "I didn't take Jude."

"What do you mean?"

"I was on the back porch with Zoe and Will. We heard crying and came around front. Jude was there, just inside the gate, wet and crying," Carl explained.

_That bitch_.

The idea that Christine had put her hands on his daughter sent chills through him while at the same time setting his blood afire with rage. She'd touched his little girl. She'd sent him a threat by proving to him that she could get to his family at any time. Well, he received her message loud and clear. He hoped, for Christine''s sake, she'd received his. He would kill her even if it meant he'd have to face the death penalty, or banishment, for doing so.

"Say goodbye to Zoe. We're going back to Glenn and Maggie's."

"Dad, what's going on?" Carl asked, once they were in his cart.

"Christine kidnapped Judy from Glenn and Maggie's house and brought her here. The thing is I can't prove it. Hank was on duty. He swears Christine never left her apartment. She has an alibi in my own deputy"

"Does that mean you can't hold her?"

"I can hold her twenty-four hours, which is all I need."

"For what?"

"I'm working on that. In the meantime, I want you to strap a gun to your hip when we get to Glenn and Maggie's place. You keep Judy in your line of sight at all times. Somebody comes for her, or you…"

"If that happens I know what to do," Carl said, his voice low and serious.

Rick nodded. Yeah, Carl knew what to do: pull the trigger. Rick continued down the road, knowing that his son would indeed kill anyone who threatened him or his family. Rick just prayed it wouldn't come to that.


	4. Chapter 4

_**The train that Michonne took to**_ S1 was a steam engine that had once been part of a historical museum but had been repaired after the sanctuaries had been established. It was the safest means of transportation between the sanctuaries, especially since each side of the tracks between the three sanctuaries were secured by a protective, reinforced wall that kept the walkers that usually lined up along it from forcing their way trip took a solid forty minutes and dusk had settled when Michonne disembarked at South Station to a very sweet, very familiar face.

"Beth!" Michonne said, and held her arms out to Beth and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Michonne, it's so good to see you! And look at you, you're showing. What are you now, five months?"

"Six. It's good to see you too. I just wish it was under better circumstances. Where's Daryl?"

"He's guarding the prisoner you're here for. A lynch mob is waiting to get at the guy. I mean that," Beth said, and looped her arm into Michonne's to walk with her toward her cart. "There's _literally _a lynch mob at the jail. One old man even brought a pitchfork."

"It'll be an interesting situation to deal with, then," Michonne said.

"That's one way of putting it. How are things with you in S3?"

"Oh, honey, we've got trouble. A boy died from a walker attack."

"I read about that in the newsletter. Someone is suspected of letting the walkers in on purpose?"

Michonne nodded. "It's a former deputy of Rick's. A woman named Christine Todd. She's obsessed with him and thinks I'm no good for him because I'm black."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. One of _those_ people? I'm sorry, Michonne," Beth said, putting the cart in gear and merging with traffic for the ten minute ride to town.

The traffic was thick. It seemed that everyone in S1 wanted to get a good look at the guy who had raped and murdered a child. They wanted to look at him before they strung him up from one of the trees in the park. Beth had to park a block away and then fight their way through the crowd with Michonne holding up a pass with an official seal that identified her as a member of the court system so people would let her through.

Once they finally reached the line of armed policemen in front of the jail the angry shouts had started a dull thud at the back of Michonne's head at the base of her skull.

"Ma'am," one of the guards said on a nod, after examining her pass. He moved aside and allowed her and Beth to step past the barriers they'd put up. Once inside, another officer had to check that her firearm was registered with the court. After that final formality, she and Beth were finally allowed inside.

Daryl stood at the back of the jail wearing military fatigues. He was unrecognizable, with his hair cut so short and his facial hair completely shaved off. He'd put on a lot of muscle weight, as well, since joining the army.

He smiled upon seeing Michonne and then pulled her into a tight hug. "Michonne, good to see you."

"Good to see you, too. Look at you, I didn't know who you were at first."

He self-consciously ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. It was longer on tip, combed back, and completely shaved on the sides.

"Yeah, they did a number on me with the clippers. He's back here."

"Michonne?"

"Hi, Nate," she said, taking his hand. He sat at one of the desks, his head down and his eyes rimmed red. "Are you okay? Is Will okay?"

Nate Swanson was Will Swanson's husband. He shook his head and wiped at fresh tears. "Will is fine but I'm not okay. I tried to deny this guy entry into our society. Something about him didn't sit right with me. I was overrode by some bureaucrat in Huber's office who never so much as meets these people. I'm running for that position in the fall."

"You have my vote. I'm so sorry, Nate," Michonne said. "This wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't make me feel any less responsible, but thanks."

"So, what's this guy's name? Has a file been made up?"

"Eban Greenfeld," Daryl said. "Nate's got a file written up, yeah."

Daryl led Michonne to the cells and she got her first look at the offender she would prosecute. It was a capital punishment case and if she won it would end very badly for him at the end of a rope.

He wasn't what she expected. This type of predator usually never lived up to stereotypes. He looked like a paunchy, middle-aged librarian with coke-bottle glasses and male pattern baldness. He was soft all over but his muddy brown eyes were empty like those of a dead fish. No wonder Nate had had such a bad feeling about the man.

"I'm Michonne Kelly, the prosecuting attorney," she said. "Where is your legal representative?"

"Haven't seen her since this morning," the man said. He tried to put on a look of meekness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm innocent of this crime."

"I'll read your file," she said.

"You have to believe me-"

"I don't have to do anything except leave, Mr. Greenfeld. I'm not allowed to speak with you about this case without your attorney present. I won't give her a reason to file for mistrial."

Daryl led her back out front. The shouts of the people chanting and calling for blood weren't as loud but they were angry and pervasive. Nate handed her a file, which she would examine that night before coming to court for the extradition process in the morning. She did take a moment to open the front page and look at the photo of the victim inside. He'd been adorable, with sandy brown hair and brown eyes that reflected childish exuberance for life. He was missing his two big front teeth. Michonne felt her heart ache for him.

_I'll win justice for you, Jared,_ Michonne vowed silently.

"I'm taking her home with me," Beth told Daryl.

"I'll be home by ten-thirty," he promised, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

With a heavy sigh, Michonne turned to face the angry mob that had gathered outside of the jail.

* * *

"_**We're all clear, then?" Rick said, **_and received nods of agreement from Maggie, Glenn, and Carl. "We'll have to wait for Michonne to get home for this to work," he said. "But it'll work."

"I hope so," said Glenn. "Otherwise I may kill that woman myself."

"Get in line," Rick smiled. "I'll take up first watch on the couch."

"First watch," said Maggie, shaking her head. "I never thought I'd have to hear those words again."

"Me either, but this time we have to," Rick agreed.

"You sure you don't want me to take a shift?" she asked.

"Honey, you're pregnant and you're exhausted. Go get a full night's sleep. We've got it."

Maggie wanted to argue that being pregnant didn't make her incapable of pulling her weight but she was yawning too hard to vocalize any objections. Her eyes felt like they had sand in them so she just gave up and went upstairs to turn in.

The night passed uneventfully. Rick was tired when he woke up at six the next morning to the smell of coffee and sausage. Maggie was up cooking and Judy was trying to sing what seemed to be an angry song. Or possibly she was complaining.

"Daddy!" she yelled, her face pinched in anger. "Mommy!"

"Oh, that's what's bothering you," Carl said, from his place beside her at the table. "She misses Mom."

Rick looked out the window. The watery light that trickled through the thick cloud cover didn't illuminate much. It had stopped raining but the clouds didn't seem interested in moving out. It made things feel ominous to Rick, as though the storms refusal to vacate was indicative of the storm he and his family faced now wasn't about to go anywhere anytime soon.

"Michonne called," said Glenn, sitting at the table and wiping at his eyes. "She said she has court at eleven this morning. The train doesn't leave until seven tonight. She'll be at the jail by eight."

Rick nodded. "Good."

"Daryl's coming with her," Maggie informed them, smiling. "It'll be good to see him again."

The mention of Daryl coming to S3 seemed to lift a huge weight off of Rick's shoulders. There was no better man to have at his back at a time like this than Daryl Dixon. Not that Rick didn't appreciate Glenn and Maggie, he did, but Daryl was as close as a brother. He missed the man more than he liked to admit. Having him gone was like losing family.

After breakfast, Rick left to go to the office. He met up with a very weary looking Jason Fletcher. "You're off the hook," Rick said, "I've got good news. I'll be hiring some newly graduated trainees from S1. We'll have six officers here. That means better hours and days off."

"Oh, God, it can't come too soon," said Jason, stretching wearily. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"FYI, you'll have two prisoners to guard tonight. Michonne's returning from S1 with a prisoner for a capital murder charge."

"Oh, joy," Jason joked, and grabbed his keys. "Have a good one, Chief."

"You too."

Rick ordered breakfast from The Briar Patch and charged it to the state account. Once it was delivered he took it back to Christine.

"Is it poisoned?" Christine asked, looking at the biscuits and sausage gravy platter with suspicion.

"I don't kill by poison," Rick said. "I stab or shoot. When it's personal, like it is with us, I prefer to stab. I prefer to _gut_."

"Don't say things like that," she said, her eyes tearing up. "It hurts. All I ever wanted was for you to love me."

Rick snorted in disgust and shook his head. She was a pitiable creature. She was deranged and dangerous, too, and he wouldn't let any feelings of pity, slight as they were, stop him from doing what he had to do to protect his own.

He walked away from her and returned to his front desk. He had a long day of guard duty ahead and he'd try to fill it by catching up on reports and paperwork. The day passed at a crawl, stuck in perpetual dusk with the heavy clouds above occasionally bursting to pour down rain. When three p.m. rolled around and Hank Nesbit came on duty, Rick was relieved.

"I'll be at Glenn and Maggie's tonight," Rick told him. "Michonne and I are going through some things, personally. She needs some space so I'm going to give it to her."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," said Hank. "Is it to do with this case?"

Rick nodded. "She feels I let her down. She thinks I may have cheated on her with Christine and that's why all this is going on. She'll have the kids at the house. Anyway, I won't be there so if you have to reach me for something I'll be at Glenn and Maggie's."

"Will do."

"Oh, and you've got a prisoner from S1 coming in. Details are in the file I left you."

"Okay. Thanks, Chief."

Rick nodded and headed out, glad to be out of the station, even if it meant he had to ride home in the rain.

* * *

_**Michonne leaned into the crib and **_kissed Judith goodnight. The little girl had clung to her from the moment she picked her up at Maggie and Glenn's house and brought her home. She hadn't been away from Michonne overnight months. As soon as she'd come through the door she'd settled down from crying to hug up to her. Michonne's heart swelled with affection as she looked down at Judy.

"My baby girl," she said tenderly, and stroked a lock of auburn hair from her forehead.

After leaving Judith's room she knocked on Carl's door, and entered after he called her in. He was sitting at his desk playing solitaire on his laptop.

"Careful with battery power," she said, and kissed him goodnight.

"You think everything will be okay?" he asked, looking away from his game.

Michonne nodded. "We've come through a lot. We'll get through this. Lights out by ten forty-five."

She showered the travel dust off and dressed in a pair of cotton pajamas before climbing into bed. She hated sleeping without Rick. She'd had a devil of a time drifting off at Daryl and Beth's house the night before. Now she was home but she had this pretense to keep up. The trap would work, though. Then all of this would be behind them and they could focus on their family and their lives.

Michonne didn't intend to drift off, just pretend to, but she ended up falling asleep. At once her dreams turned dark. It was before they came to the sanctuaries. She'd been in Rick's arms after he picked her up to carry her back to camp when she'd twisted her ankle. That was the moment she realized she felt more for Rick than mere friendship. In her dream the stench of rotted flesh overpowered her. When she looked up, Rick was a walker.

"Run," he groaned.

Michonne sat up, gasping for breath. The smell of rotten flesh was powerful in the room. She saw someone in the bedroom doorway.

"Rick?"

She received a moan as an answer.

"Shit!"

She turned on the bedside lamp and revealed that a walker was not only in the doorway, but one was also in the room, at the foot of her bed. She lunged at Michonne, who dove to the side, trying to avoid her bony, grasping fingers. Her feet got caught up in the blankets and it took a powerful kick free her legs. She shoved the walker away with her feet and rolled out of bed.

"Carl!" she shouted.

"Mom?"

Carl's bedroom door opened. There were two more walkers in the hall, in addition to the one in the doorway to her bedroom. She shoved past him as the female walker she'd kicked off her bed lumbered clumsily toward her.

"Stay in your room!"

Judith's bedroom door was closed and secure. Carl slammed his door shut. She wasn't worried they would be able to get in at either of the children.

Michonne bound down the stairs and headed into the living room. She kept her katana above the mantle. She felt her stomach swoop with dread when she found that it was gone. She next headed to the kitchen, looking for a knife, but they were all gone as well.

She needed a weapon to kill the walkers that had invaded her home. She searched the kitchen, hearing the walkers shuffle upstairs and pound on the door of Carl's bedroom. She was furious. Someone had led those filthy things into her home to attack her children, and her, which meant an attack on her unborn baby. She'd already lost one child to these monsters. She wasn't going to go through that again.

Michonne spotted the broom leaning in the corner. She grabbed it and with a swift kick snapped it half, leaving one edge beautifully long and ending in a wicked point. Without hesitation Michonne rushed upstairs and began taking out the walkers with the broom handle. She had only one left, in her bedroom, when she felt something slice across her leg.

"Michonne?"

She heard Daryl Dixon's voice from downstairs. She wanted to slap herself. She'd forgotten to flick the lights in the kitchen on and off to signal trouble if anything happened. He must have heard something, or sensed trouble, because he'd come in anyway. She turned around and saw that Christine Todd now stood over her, awkwardly holding her sword in her hands.

"Looking for this, bitch?" Christine said.

Michonne stared up at her, looked into the madness of the woman above her, and waited for her next move.

"I'm gonna kill you with your own sword," she said.

"No you're not," Michonne answered. "That sword is a part of me; an extension of my soul. You don't have what it takes to turn it against me."

Christine tried to thrust the sword down, into Michonne's midsection, but Michonne brought her foot around in a kick that knocked the blade from her hand. It skittered across the floor and landed at the entrance to her bedroom. The female walker left in her room tripped over the blade and fell face first behind Christine.

Daryl shot up the steps like a rocket and ended the walker just as Carl opened his bedroom door and leveled his gun at her.

"She's mine!" Michonne shouted."

"Mom, you're pregnant," Carl said worriedly.

"I can handle her."

Christine took a swing at Michonne. It was a good, solid punch that Michonne easily blocked. Regardless of how hard Christine tried she couldn't get in close to Michonne, even with her wounded leg. Instead, she took two punches without landing one. Seeing she was in trouble, Christine dove for Judith's room. She tried to slam the door in Michonne's face but Michonne shoved back with all she had.

Despite the pain in her leg, Michonne lunged and grabbed Christine by the shoulder, forcing her to turn. Christine elbowed her in the face and tried to go for Judith's crib. Judith was up now, standing and crying, rubbing her eyes. The room was flooded with light as someone flipped the switch behind Michonne. She kidney punched Christine before kicking the back of her knee joint, sending her down. With a cry of rage, Michonne landed three hard punches to Christine's face. She wanted to beat the woman until she never moved again, and she probably would have, if Carl hadn't grabbed her hand and halted her punches.

Christine lay on the floor, dazed but not unconscious. Michonne stood over her and shook her head while Carl and Daryl came to stand behind her.

"You fucked with the wrong family," Michonne told her. "Bitch."

* * *

_**Across town, at Glenn and Maggie's, **_Rick sat in the shadowy corner of the living room and waited. He wasn't disappointed to see a dark figure skulk in through the living room window and begin to search the couch.

Rick switched on the lamp, casting light across the room and startling Hank Nesbit, who recoiled in surprise.

"Looking for me, Hank?"

Hank saw the gun trained on him. He was too late to go for his own and he knew Rick would shoot him. Glenn and Maggie came into the room, also armed.

"How did you know?" Hank asked.

"The walkers in two different locations. I figured it would have been impossible for Christine to let walkers into town and up at the pond in only five minutes, so she had to have had help. Also, who reported the walkers at the pond? None of the kids had radios to report it. Then the day Judith was kidnapped you were on stakeout. How did Christine get past you? She'd have to use her cart to get across town to grab Judith and then make it back in time to jump in the shower as an alibi. You would have seen her get in her cart and leave, and return. Plus, you tried to defend her to me. You told her my daughter was missing so she wouldn't slip up and say she didn't know where Judith was while I questioned her, since I refused to say exactly who was missing. Let me guess, you're in love with her? She letting you fuck her in exchange for help in attacking my family?"

Hank refused to speak. Instead he cast quick glances between Rick, Maggie, and Glenn, calculating his chances of escape.

"You'll hang for what you've done," Rick said. "I promise you that."

"No, I won't," Hank said.

Rick knew what was coming. Suicide by cop. Even though he knew it was hopeless, Hank drew on Rick, who shot first. Glenn and Maggie, not willing to take the chance Hank would get off a lucky shot, also fired on him. He fell in a hail of bullets. His breath hitched as he struggled to breathe. Rick stood over him and aimed his gun at Hank's head.

"You'll see Christine in hell soon."

Rick pulled the trigger, putting him down for good.


	5. Chapter 5

_**One Week Later**_

"I'm so _sick_ of rain," Carl moaned. He took a seat on the porch with his father and Michonne and watched as two trucks, both pulling moving trailers, pulled up in front of the house across the street.

"New neighbors," Rick noted.

He was surprised, as was Carl, when Daryl climbed out of the first truck, and then Beth emerged from the second.

"Daryl! Beth!" Carl yelled, and whooped happily as he ran down the porch steps.

"Did you know about this?" Rick asked Michonne.

She stood, still favoring the leg that Christine had cut, and nodded. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, it worked," he said, taking her hand and laughing as they made their way across the street to greet Daryl and Beth.

"You sit on the porch," Beth said to Michonne. "Your leg can't handle the work."

"I'll be fine. I can carry light things," Michonne insisted, despite the look of mutiny on Beth's face.

Glenn and Maggie arrived, shocked to see that Daryl and Beth had arrived with trailers and were ready to unpack and move in. Maggie turned to Michonne just as soon as she learned she'd been in on the move the whole time.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Maggie asked Michonne.

"I didn't want you pestering me for information," Michonne explained.

"Or calling us ten times a day, asking if we're still moving," Daryl added.

"I wouldn't have done that," Maggie swore, looking as innocent as she could.

"Really, Maggie?" Beth said, her eybrows arched skeptically.

"Not ten times a day. Whatever. Let's just get to work."

They spent the better part of the day getting things into the house and their appropriate rooms. The power had been switched on so they had electricity. When the light faded and everyone was thoroughly drenched from moving things in the rain, they settled down at Rick and Michonne's for dinner.

"So, what's the news with the Todd case?" asked Daryl.

"Her trial starts next week," said Michonne."There's another attorney prosecuting her since I'm too involved to be impartial."

"She refused to own up to anything but that won't help her," said Rick. "The evidence is just too overwhelming."

"The Death Penalty is mandatory in this case. She brought walkers into the sanctuary, got a young boy killed, kidnapped Judith, broke into our house with walkers and tried to kill me and the kids," Michonne shook her head.

"She still refuses to tell us how she wrangled five walkers," said Rick. "Hank must have helped here there, before going on to Glenn and Maggie's to find me."

Glenn nodded. "He won't be a threat, nor a burden to society. Michonne, what about the Greenfeld case?"

"DNA tests finally came back yesterday," said Michonne. "His semen was on the body. He didn't realize we had a functional lab. He didn't think DNA tests were still done so he didn't try to cover his tracks. He raped and strangled Jared Broward. He confessed when we hit him with the DNA evidence. He claims he'd always wanted to do what he did but he'd never had the courage until the Turn. He says Jared was his fourth victim."

"He won't have anymore," Beth said solemnly. They nodded with agreement.

After dinner was over, Rick, Carl, and Glenn helped Daryl to set up the furniture in Daryl's new house. It was late when Rick stepped out onto Daryl's front porch to see Maggie and Glenn off, and prepare to go home himself.

"I want to show you something," Daryl said. He pulled a box out of his pocket and showed Rick a beautiful diamond ring.

"You're going to propose?" said Rick.

Daryl nodded. "I found this before we came to the sanctuaries. I've just been waiting to for the right time. I think it is. I'm going to take her on a picnic one evening, when this rain lets up, and ask her."

"Beth's madly in love with you. She'll say yes." Rick clapped Daryl on the shoulder. "I'm so glad the two of you are here. It's good to have you around, brother."

Daryl nodded his head once. "It's good to be here."

They shook hands and then Rick started for home. He and Michonne had wedding plans to make. They had a future to build together and a family to raise and they had more of their best friends close by. Now that the danger with Christine had passed, the future was looking bright.

"Hey, Sweetheart, I'm home," he said, quietly entering their bedroom.

Michonne lay on the bed, curled up with a notebook and ink pen where she'd been working on a seating chart, but now she was knocked out, asleep. She looked angelic in the soft, golden light of the beside lamp. He pulled the notebook from her hands and set it on the table before crawling into bed behind her. He switched off the light and wrapped her in his arms.

Eventually Rick's hand found its way to the swell of her abdomen, where their baby grew, and he couldn't fight off the smile that tugged at his lips. He held his woman close and listened to the rain patter at the window, and fell quickly into a deep and peaceful sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Just to let you all know I really appreciate all the encouragement and support you've given me since I started writing fic for the Walking Dead, Richonne, Bethyl, and the other ships I ventured into. It started with my fic, Winter. It's going to conclude with this fic, at least for awhile. I won't be posting anymore fics for a bit. I'm taking a break. I don't want to saturate the fandom with my writing. I feel people will lose interest (It feels like its waning anyway and there's nothing at all wrong with that). That, and I just flat-out need a break. I've taken a break from Tumblr and I'm going to take a break from writing for awhile. I've got some original stuff I need to work on. Hopefully series five of TWD will put fire in my veins to write more and I'll start posting again. Regardless of what comes, thank you all so much for being such awesome readers! You guys all rock! *hugs*


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